


Don’t Ask Me Why

by akuli



Series: The “Everyone’s Herobrine” AU [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Minor Injuries, the universe expands smiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:28:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28751427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akuli/pseuds/akuli
Summary: “ Notch, Dan,” Pat moved to crouch down next to him,“ what did you do?”or, in taking the advice of the monster you have become.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: The “Everyone’s Herobrine” AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2098080
Kudos: 8





	Don’t Ask Me Why

**Author's Note:**

> second installment pog!!! i’m not sure how consistent i’m going to be with these, seeing as i’ve got WAY too many wips that have been sitting in my drafts for months but i do adore this funky au :) dan’s involvement should be wrapping up in the next one, and then from there we get the formal introduction of the 3rd main ‘brian!! neways enjoy this that took way too long to finish
> 
> (also the title is taken from the great caesar song!)

Pat’s realm is baffling not because of the arena that houses the temporary devices of, quite literally, world-altering destruction, but because of how mundane his life is despite the line of work he willingly participates in. He and Pat embark on expeditions to gather resources from the work quite often despite having come in contact with the forces that keep realms separate and grant them the ability to spawn once again, the only side effects being that of a day’s soreness from an arrow that felt the final blow. It’s actually what they’re doing when he arrives, Jen closer to the surface, trading with villagers who aren’t quite their neighbors, but friendly enough, and Pat, deep underground, when his communicator abruptly clicks to life.

“ Pat,” He’s gotten used to the crack of static that accompanies the communicators by now. It’s the strain in Jen’s voice that puts him on edge, “ Dan’s here.”

“ Oh,” He stops his work, for a moment, due to the urgency in her tone, after checking for any potential danger, leaning against the stone, “ that’s… nice?”

“ You need to come back,” Jen’s never been the assertive one, but there’s no room for a question in her response, which is telling of how this isn’t a just a surprise visit from a respected friend, “ he doesn’t look good.”

As if he wasn’t worried enough. “ What?” In their line of work, however far apart their worlds, _Notch_ , even their methods, that line, albeit cliché, is never a good thing to hear. Pat’s fingers absently find a place where his ear would be, if he weren’t wearing the helmet, a habit he picked up from movies that made the career they participate in look easy,“ Jen, what do you _mean_ he doesn’t look good?”

“ I think this is something you need to see,” He can hear movement from her end, and it worries him even more when he realizes Dan hasn’t said a _word_ during the exchange,“ this is- something.”

“ Okay,” He switches out his pickaxe out for his sword and looks towards the torches, irregular, but a clear pattern he thinks is the trail he left in his wake, and one he will use to reach the surface again, “ I’m on my way.”

When he reaches the surface again, night has fallen, and he has to take a detour to fend off a spider who insists on pouncing on him before he follows the coords to which Jen gave him. When he arrives, however, she’s nowhere in sight, much less the man in question. All he can see are the darkened windows of the village, hiding from the undead that ceaselessly pound at their doors, and their iron protector. He flips his own communicator in, and lifts it to the gap in his helmet that allows him to breathe without fear of getting toxins in his lungs, “ Jen?”

“ Over here!” 

She’s waving him over from a block of dirt she’s uprooted, rather hastily judging by the residue that’s going to be stuck under her nails until they’re able to make it home as she offers him a hand. He takes it, and she helps him into the space she’s hollowed out for the night, not particularly uncomfortable, but not as roomy as their proper base of operations.

“ Why’re you-“ 

And _that’s_ when Pat catches his first glance of Dan, who looks... _rough_ to say the least. His glasses, a staple of his brand, have been cracked, although not fully shattered, thankfully. They seemed to have sustained the least amount of damage, seeing as Dan’s pants are missing at least one of the golden buttons, and it seems as if his shirt has been used as a makeshift bandage, ripped at the hem and wrapped around one of Dan’s arms, seemingly loosened by Jen, who has the most knowledge of how to treat wounds out of the three of them. His eyes are closed, and he’d look peaceful if the rest of his features weren’t so clearly pained.

“ Notch, Dan,” Pat moved to crouch down next to him,“ what did you _do_?”

“ He passed out a few minutes ago,” Pat can hear the low, rumbling sound of pain the zombies make as Jen fends them off, the crinkling sound of dirt as she barricades whatever entrance there was with the rest of the dirt before she follows him, a hand coming to rest on his shoulder, and squeezing it gently “ I couldn’t get him back to the house on my own.”

It’s something like an apology, but not quite, as both of them know whatever this is, it’s not their fault, “ We can’t move him right now,” Pat hesitantly pressed the back of his hand to Dan’s forehead, sighing with a bit of relief when he didn’t feel a worrisome amount of heat as a result, “ you didn’t bring any beds, did you?”

“ No, why would I?” Her words come out quickly, and with an edge she clearly doesn’t mean to have, judging by how she cuts off, and then, quietly apologizes, “ I’m sorry.”

“ It’s okay,” Pat’s fairly sure his reassurance doesn’t help much, but he’s just as distressed as she is, “ can you tell how he got like this?”

“ He was pretty out of it when he spawned,” He moves when she begins to lower herself to the ground so that she can be the closest to Dan, “ mumbling about Trayaurus. Everything about this is _weird_ ,” She gestures to Dan’s clothes, specifically the parts that are torn, exposing his wounds as she continues, “ his deepest wounds have no indication of weapons, or a specific mob, and trust me when I say they’re _deep_ ,” Pat simply nods in response, not wanting to entertain the forming thoughts of the horrors Dan may’ve had to face while attempting to reach help, “ they don’t look infected, though, which is somewhat of a relief.”

“ That is good,” Pat smooths over some of the wrinkles on Dan’s pants, content to let Jen handle any real damage done to their friend, “ is there anything we can do while we’re here?”

“ I’ve already done all I can with what supplies I had on hand,” He can see she’s cut some of her own dress away, used as makeshift dressing, and pooled so largely in areas it makes his stomach flip, “we unfortunately just have to wait until we get back.”

“ I hate that,” It’s a simple phrase, quiet frustration in being completely, utterly helpless to someone you care about’s pain, “ I hate that.”

“ I do too,” She just sounds tired now, even as her hand finds his own again in an attempt to reassure him, “ but it’s probably best for the both of us to get some sleep.”

“ Okay,” He relaxes against her, interlocking their fingers and squeezing her hand back,“ okay.”

* * *

**And I can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t sit still or fix things and I wake up and I wake up and you’re still dead**

* * *

Dan is awake, and his eyes are glowing. This results in the most fear-induced adrenaline rush Pat has ever had, tools making a horrible, loud clacking noise that subsequently causes Jen to begin to stir as Pat retrieves his sword from his inventory and trains it on an equally as startled Dan.

“ _Pat-_ “

“ Why are you here,” Pat _hates_ that he gives this creature even a chance, every time, even after he _knows_ what it’s capable of, how many innocent creations of the Sky Gods he’s corrupted, used for his own gain, _killed_ , “ _what did you do with Dan._ ” 

“ I am Dan,” His voice is hoarse, but the desperation that bleeds into his tone is human, not the mocking kind the creature he and Jen managed to corner every so often, “ I’m Dan, for Notch’s sake, don’t stab me, Pat. _You know me_.”

( _Do I?_ goes without saying, in the way Jen does not move to help Dan up, in how Dan sees himself reflected in the obsidian of the part of Pat’s helmet that falls over his eyes. He looks at the only two people who understand what it’s like to willingly research a creature regarded as one of the most dangerous across the realms, and realizes monsters do not have a choice. They are made from bitter souls and gods who see mortals as pawns in the grand scheme they inevitably shape.)

“ Then _why_ in the name of _Notch_ ,” Dan flinches, and Pat feels sick, for a moment, that he can’t bring himself to care, “ did you make a deal with _Herobrine_?”

“ I didn’t,” Dan’s entire body is trembling, and Pat can feel the heat of Jen’s gaze, even with his back “ it’s not what you thought. It’s a curse. He’s dead. I’m,” He cuts himself off with a choked noise, “ Pat, _please_.”

“ Why did you come here,” He surprises even himself with how angry he sounds, “ why me?”

“ You know more about him than me,” which is not necessarily untrue from Dan’s perspective, although Pat can’t help but to think of iron, trapping him in a room of stone brick and gold, “ I need help. I need to figure out what this _is_ ,” Dan’s fingers trace the rim of his glasses absentminded, tapping the broken glass albeit involuntary as tremors born of hunger and ceaseless nightmares toy with each of his limbs in turn, “ what I can _do_ . I watched him _die_ , Pat.”

(He doesn’t necessarily sound like a man who is mourning, but how could he? None of them ever truly knew this man, no matter the snarky remarks traded as Pat covered for his bleeding partner, arrows that never pierced his skin)

“I held him as he died, and he told me to find my friends, to not make the same mistake as he did,” Dan looks scared when he meets Pat’s eyes, and he doesn’t think it’s fully because of the sword,” _you’re_ my friend. I need help.”

(The permanence of death in this world, and how it’s perceived by every individual is something Pat’s been fascinated by for _years_ . It’s one of the questions that even the experts of this world cannot explain, chalking it up to nature of mortality, and the survival instinct being more present in some than others. Pat’s never seen a half-god so _terrified_ by the notion in his years of throwing himself into danger for the purpose of advancing the species he cannot help to care for, no matter how many mistakes they make.)

“ You can’t stay,” It is not said with the conviction that Pat is used to embodying, and Jen’s fingers come to grasp his forearm, squeezing it as he continues, “ I don’t know what you did, but you’re not endangering my server too.”

“ He needs to stay,” There is no insistence in her voice, but he can feel doubt prodding at his mind, a feeling he is decidedly not used to, “ Pat, he’s not going to survive if he tries to get back.”

“ Herobrine doesn’t get hurt.”

“ Apparently he does, if he _died_ ,” She releases his forearm only to grasp at his shoulder, and he allows himself to be turned so that she’s now standing between him and Dan, although his eyes stay on the latter, “ look, I don’t like this any more than you do. It’s scary,” He lets out a noise of clear dismissiveness that will have consequences later, judging by the way Jen’s grip tightens for a moment, edging on purposefully painful, “ but he was our friend. He still might be. He stays, if only until he heals. I mean,” She gestures to Dan with her free hand, “ can you really look at him, and say he’s the man we met in the mansion?”

(He can’t, and Jen knows it. She knows that despite Dan’s sudden lack of pupils, neither of them can deny whoever this man, he is not the merciless deity that lured them to a house of his own making, one of horrors she will never be able to shake, especially as her grasp on her own consciousness slips away at night.)

“ Fine,” The way Dan’s chest visibly deflates when Pat maneuvers the blade from where it was resting against his throat does make him feel a bit guilty, “ only for however long it takes him to recover,” He turned away as Jen rushed to Dan’s side, “ I’ve got to get in contact with-“

“ Got it,” Jen’s begun to maneuver her own arm under Dan’s in the time it takes Pat to sheath his sword, “ Help me get him back to the house, and I’ll start going through the notes,” She looks to him, and Pat is so grateful she, of all people, is his partner in crime, because he’s never been able to inspire hope like she does, even in times like these, “ we’ve got this.”

“ I hope so,” Pat maneuvers Dan’s free arm over his shoulder with a smile that looks closer to the word than before, “ I really do.”

  
  



End file.
